Soulmate Surviving
by Kiwikatipo
Summary: Spn Xover:Faith and Sam keep meeting and parting, but the love for an ex sometimes his, sometimes hers, is always an obstacle to their being together, until one day....
1. Wicked Game

**Spoilers:**Buffy comics, Season 1 and 2  
**Warnings:** Coarse Language  
**Disclaimer:** I did not invent Sam and Faith, Kripke and Whedon did, all hail. Annabel and company were created by Stephen Carpenter and are borrowed from the movie Soul Survivors.

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**Gary, Indiana, January, 2006**

In a bustling café, two men in their twenties sat opposite one another drinking their java. With a customary loom Sam rose to place his lap top in front of his shorter but better looking brother.

"Still getting e-mails from your college buddies? Salem, Massachusetts." Dean shot Sam a quirk of an eyebrow and a smirk of the lips. "Witches gone wild?"

"It looks like a skin walker, ghost or demonic possession. It's odd, weird and freaky so that's us." Sam was falling back into hunting like a duck to water - it was as if college and normalcy were a distant dream brought back into his consciousness by blasts from the past like this letter from Sean Wilberforce, a lab tutor from Sanford.

Meg, the girl he met on his aborted trip to California, caused a disruption in Sam's revenge driven return to the hunting life.

Thank God Sam did turn back from trying to find Dad, or else Dean would be dead by now.

"Odd weird and freaky - that's you, dude, not me. The case? Yeah, sounds right up our alley," Dean's face broke into a lecherous smile, "And we should check up on Emily Jorgeson in Boston, see if she's recovered yet from nearly being sacrificed to a pagan god by her folks."

"It's only been two days, she's not you, I'd say she wouldn't be over it." Sam wasn't over Jess, half a year could pass and you could still hurt every day with grief.

"She might need to talk about it to someone who understands, might need a shoulder to cry on." Lust was one of the seven deadly sins that Dean most frequently indulged in.

Solo gratification was all Sam could deal with right now, anything else would feel like the final nail in Jessica's coffin.

**Salem, Massachusetts, January, 2006**

The ethereal blonde who greeted Dean and Sam at her front door caused Dean's flirtatious charm to kick into high gear. He managed to con a sandwich out of her straight away.

The blonde, a swimming instructor for disabled children was called Cassie Winters, she used to date Sean when they were both attending high school in Salem.

"Sean and I broke up three years ago, he was in California, I was in Mass, it was too hard once he was in college. I dropped out of college…" Cassie passed Dean the sandwich she fixed for him in her family's kitchen. "Enough mayo?"

"Awesome," A thumbs up signal was given by Dean to reinforce that mouthful statement.

"But we'll always be friends; he saved my life, even if he does shoot off his mouth about me to his co-workers these days." Using her hands and strong swimmer's arms Cassie swung herself up to sit on the kitchen island. "Crap, this is going to sound insane. Sean's lab assistant said you helped her brother in Florida? But I don't know how you can help me, I mean it's not like I'm being haunted… I saw a ghost I think… But she couldn't be a ghost and if she is I think she might be worse than a ghost, because I think she went to Hell..."

"Start from the beginning," Sam advised the stressed woman.

"The very beginning?" Cassie put her head in her hands and trembled. "It sounds nuts. Okay, in my freshman year of high school I met this new transfer - Annabel Lehane who had moved with her family from Boston to Salem. We were both in the swim team and we became best friends, we hung out together all the time, painting each other's toenails sleeping over at each others house, tying up the phone lines when we were apart and generally driving our parents crazy, the whole teenage gal pal hog."

Sam and Dean politely waited as Cassie paused for breath.

"So anyway, in sophomore year her mom passed - car accident. Annabel's mom drank and drove once too often. Ironic, I should have learned huh?" Cassie's hands shook. "Annabel went kind of crazy afterwards, did dumb teen cry for help stunts, shoplifting, sleeping around, dropped out of swim team, would have dropped out of school if me and her dad hadn't persuaded her not to but I stuck by her. And this dark place Annabel went to, she clawed her way back out of it. And in senior year our lives were so on track, hell we knew everything, we were fricking perfect little princesses on prom night. See that collection of photographs hanging on the wall? Bottom left."

Four two-dimensional fading teenagers in formal attire beamed self consciously at the camera Cassie's dad held back in 1999. One blonde and one brunette wearing similar clinging black dresses, two tuxedo clad guys with their arms around their best girls' waists and a dab of zit cover up on their chins. Smiles frozen in time, forever young, forever in love.

The girls' prom gowns were cut low. Cassie and Annabel were bangable little babes back then, weren't they just? Sam blinked, his heart and groin were in the grave, he refocused back on Cassie's words.

"That's me and Sean and Annabel and Matt. I used to date Matt before Sean. Annabel always wanted him. Matt was a great guy, won a scholarship to Harvard. I murdered him and I murdered Annabel when they were both only eighteen." Cassie grabbed a tissue out of a box beside the fruit bowl. She dragged the tissue across her eyes with a violent jerk.

Feeling confident that Cassie would elaborate on that last statement Sam made a soothing murmur from the back of his throat.

An expression of compassionate concern played over Dean's features, Sam noticed him eye up the fruit bowl appraisingly at the same time.

"It was the week Annabel and I started Middleton College in Illinois." Cassie sped up her words so fast she verged on gabbling. "We were so excited we both got accepted to the same college. Sean and Matt's colleges started the week after ours did. They were spending the night with us after driving us to Middleton. We all went to a freshers' party at a Sorority house and it sucked, Annabel found out about a rave being held in an abandoned church on the outskirts of town."

Tears were running down Cassie's face. "Annabel and I were dancing together all night and I kept having shots from this hipflask of vodka Matt brought along to the rave - it was hot inside. And when it came time to leave I made out with Matt in the car while Sean was inside the church looking for Annabel. Sean saw, he was pissed at me.

So… yeah, it was raining, I was driving back to college alongside the lake and trying to convince Sean me kissing Matt had been nothing, while at the same time attempting not to let Annabel in the back seat know what I did with her boyfriend. A car in front of us on the highway spun around in the wet." Cassie's words were almost intelligible by this stage. "And because I wasn't concentrating - because I'd been drinking and cheating on my boyfriend - I ploughed into it and pushed it and us over a bank into Lake Michigan and all three occupants of that other car died and so did Matt and Annabel."

"I'm sorry." Sam and Dean both said it together on the same beat. Jesus, imagine having that on your conscience.

It made perfect sense for Annabel to be an unquiet spirit.

"And you've seen the ghost of Annabel?" Dean was the picture of helpful non shocked understanding.

Slowly, Cassie nodded. "Yeah, and so did Annabel's dad on Christmas Eve, we both did. That's why I know I'm not crazy."

**Boston, Massachusetts, January 2006**

Being reformed and all, Faith never meant to screw with her old man's double's mind.

Faith's father died in an armed hold up of a liquor store gone wrong when Faith was five and then everything in her young life truly went to shit.

Ma turned into a mega bitch, they moved out of their three bedroom house into a cheaper apartment in a worse part of Southie than they lived in before. Ma started to hit both the bottle and Faith.

So it was too tempting not to glimpse the life Faith's double once led in Salem in this Earth dimension… what stinking luck that at the same time a squatting Faith brushed away the snow from Annabel Faith Lehane's plaque in a Salem lawn cemetery, to read what verse from the Good Book got chosen to sum up Annabel's brief life - Annabel's father and her best friend arrived carrying white roses to lay down on Annabel's grave on Christmas Eve morning.

Awkward.

How dumb of Faith to think that wearing shades would disguise her sufficiently during her tourist jaunt around Salem. _Faith was constantly dumb, she verged on being retarded._

Fortunately Faith's boyfriend was waiting in his van for her so she could beat a hasty retreat leaving a stunned Cassie Winters and Colin Lehane in her wake.

Tonight in January as snow fell on the streets outside, she walked down the stairs from her third floor apartment in the urban renewal area she grew up in, _she deserved to live_ _in shit surroundings_ - _that was why she ended up back here wasn't it?_

Faith resolved to dump Kenny again this evening albeit less violently than she had at seventeen. Being a guitarist instead of a drummer on this Earth, and with an added seven years of maturity still did not alter the fact that although a gifted musician, a stud in bed and funny, Kenny was fundamentally a cheating asshole.

She wouldn't go to California again, no, she always intended to go to the Caribbean and fight evil by night, _she was a worthless piece of trash who had so much to make up for,_ and laze on the beach by day_. She didn't deserve a normal life like Buffy, Vi and Kennedy intended to have once they made magic leave their world, because Faith gutted like a squealing pig…_

"Hey, Jake," Faith walked quickly up to the doorman at the bar Kenny was playing in tonight. "Left the navy, huh?"

"Sorry, do I know you?" Jake who popped Faith's cherry in his parent's bedroom one summer night at a party when she was fourteen and wasted, stared down at her puzzled.

Faith never lost her virginity to this world's Jake. _Fucking with her own head was the one thing she was good at_. "No. Got you mixed with someone else."

With a swish of her hips Faith headed towards the bar once she left her jacket and scarf with the hat check chick. What the hell made her come back to South Boston? It wasn't like the Artic hellhole held pleasant memories for her. _And that was because she…_

"Who's next?" The bartender dithered between Faith and an escaped NBA player standing in front of him at the bar.

It took two seconds for Faith to give NBA and the pallid bartender the automatic test she gave every male with a pulse and some vampires that didn't. Would she bang NBA or the bar tender if she got stranded with them on a desert island? Hell yeah to NBA, and probably the bartender if NBA got killed by a cocoanut falling out of a palm tree.

"The lady was first." NBA must be an MIT hobbit slumming it. His eyes were kind and he looked kinda sad, not like he was going to start hitting on her.

She rewarded him with a sultry raise of her eyelashes. He could hit on her if he wanted, no problems

"A pitcher of beer," she tossed a greenback in front of the bartender.

"Freezing night, huh?" NBA was smiling across at her.

"Winter." Faith rolled her eyes. Lame. Talking about the weather? Lame.

"Yeah, guess it is, but it's still freezing." NBA moved aside for the bartender to pass Faith her pitcher of beer.

Faith narrowed her eyes but not at NBA, she spotted Kenny approaching at two o'clock on her right.

"Hey, baby." Kenny slid his hands around her waist and kissed her bare shoulder.

No violence, she was newly twenty five, she could do this.

"Hey Kenny," Faith twirled around and dimpled up at him. She thought they could work out in this dimension, _dumb, dumb,_ _dumb,_"You know how you screwed yah room mate's sister last Friday afternoon after I left your apartment?"

"I don't know what trouble makin' bitch lied to you, Faith." Kenny glared at the tall guy standing beside them hanging onto every word spoken. "Hey, bud? Fuck off."

NBA backed away with an apologetic hand gesture.

Tilting her chin up mulishly Faith turned her attentions back to Kenny. "Don't bullshit me, Kenny, I'm quicker than that." She twisted her mouth. "Real quick."

The pitcher of beer was overturned on Kenny's head with lightning speed. _Oops._ Déjà vu.

Seven years ago her world's Kenny used amphetamines too much and backhanded Faith across the face when she pulled the same trick. She used her newly discovered slayer strength to snap his forearm in return.

Today Kenny clenched his fist, unclenched it and said. "I'm sorry, Faith. It wasn't you it was me." He slunk off damply.

This world rocked even if Faith still hadn't discovered where all the cool vampires hung out or even the geek ones.

There might be something supernaturally weird happening in Maine next week, who would guess Faith had been driven to studying fatality reports in newspapers to try and find evil to vanquish?

A passing guy nearly spilled a glass of water all over her, she dodged with nimble grace.

"Aiming to host your own little wet t-shirt competition?" Faith snapped with frustrated displacement of hurt. _Kenny, Robin, it never worked because she wasn't good enough for anyone. Slut, tramp, worthless whore._

The apologizing unco turned out to be NBA's brother. Dean was the unco one and Sam was the giant.

The Winchester brothers were both frigging hot.

She'd screw Dean the moment they swam ashore on her imaginary Gilligan's Island. Judging from the flicker of movement on Dean's brow he was running through a similar scenario with her.

Sam Winchester asked if he could buy her a drink.

Nothing like getting back in the saddle after being bucked from a horse, not that Faith would honestly know - she'd never even touched a horse in her whole mostly misspent and entirely urban or in prison life.

Should she be good or should she be bad? And with which brother?


	2. I never dreamed

Soulmate Surviving -2 I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

_**Title:Soulmate Surviving  
Author:Kiwikatipo  
Rating:F18 NC-17  
Genre: Romance  
Spoilers: Buffy comics, Season 1 and 2  
Warnings: Coarse Language  
Disclaimer: I did not invent Sam and Faith, Kripke and Whedon did, all hail. Annabel and company were created by Stephen Carpenter and are borrowed from the movie Soul Survivors.**_

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Boston, January, 2006

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For a girl who just broke up with her boyfriend she seemed completely emotionally unscathed.

It took the time spent to drain a highball for Sam to suddenly worry that Annabel who now went by the moniker 'Faith' might be on to them.

One minute she'd been sleazing all over Dean and the next moment she leaned against _him_, her body lean and supple. Her breasts contained against the laws of physics in a low cut reddish silky top, were soft and squishing pleasantly against his sweater clad arm.

He towered over her, she wasn't a perfect fit like Jess and she smelled of cigarettes - yuck.

Blonde, kind, sweet, fun-loving Jessica couldn't be replaced and Sam didn't want to replace her.

"Sam-the-man," Faith's eyes were hooded, brown and staring up at him invitingly. "Why don't you and Deano _both_ come back to my place?"

"Little early for coffee isn't it?" Sam shifted his body so Faith no longer touched him. It made sense if she turned out to be a demon because physically the woman disturbed the hell out of him.

He kept imagining taking Faith hard and fast in the bar's restroom which could make her a succubus or something else unnatural that dropped their G's and made grieving guys horny.

"Who said anything about coffee?" Faith's tone promised decadent delights and held a slightly lowered inflection which implied he lacked gray matter.

Therefore Sam wasn't fooled by her sensuous implication; she didn't seem dumb enough or wasted enough to expect that he and Dean (being, hello, _brothers_) would want to screw the same woman at the same time.

Which meant Faith wanted Sam and Dean to leave the bar with her so she could murder them. Maybe as part of her monster modus operandi she'd need to copulate with them first before she tried to kill them?

God-damnit, now he was picturing himself screwing her again. He glowered at her.

"Sorry, sweetness but he'll have to take a rain check. Sammy here has an interview at Harvard tomorrow like we said, needs to be all early bird catches a worm, can you handle just me?" Dean could always be counted on to come across as a randy hound dog convincingly – method acting on his part. Sam noted Dean even had his arm draped around Faith's bare shoulders as he spoke, tracing invisible circles with his thumb on her skin. Her shoulders were smooth, flawless.

Sam hoped Dean washed his hands afterwards, because the chick was clearly an unclean entity. Sam identified as being a liberal who loved women, yet the words 'jezebel' and 'harlot' kept coming to the fore in his mind when he conversed with Faith, which either must make him some archaic dick or Faith evil. Jess was sexy, sure, but Jess never wore pants so tight they might as well be spray painted on. 'Slut' - at least that word kept a timeless quality of abuse throughout the centuries.

"His loss," she frowned at Sam, with a scrunched forehead for a second before shrugging to show she didn't give a shit.

"Yeah, it is," Dean sighed dramatically then cheered up in an instant, "but all my gain. Let's blow this joint, huh?"

Standing still as he finished his beer Sam watched Faith led Dean out of the bar area, into the hat and coat check-in area, up the flight of stairs that led from the basement club to the street and out of view.

_One, two, three,_ Sam slowly counted to sixty, before beginning to trail his brother and their potentially demonic prey.

Paying their tab, leaving the bar, collecting his coat, going up the stairs, walking slowly behind Faith and Dean on the sidewalk, staying out of sight - Sam carried out all of these tasks faithfully. _He was a giant! Dean should really be doing this stalker gig, not Sam. _

The icy sidewalk made the ground slippery under foot. Sam's boots were fitted with a good tread on the soles, he didn't know how else to account for Faith being able to remain upright with the height of her stiletto boot heels without her being not of this world. Or she was holding onto Dean for dear life if human.

A wino asked Sam for spare change and held him up for a few minutes, when the old man decided to get nasty over Sam's kindly refusal to enable his alcohol dependency further and then nosy passer-bys decided to get involved. Where was big city indifference when you needed it?

A quick scramble up a series of fire escape ladders thirty minutes later saw Sam perching on Faith's fire escape landing outside her window. The loft apartment Faith rented wasn't as big a dump inside as it looked from the outside.

Her apartment's view wasn't anything to write home about - overlooking a back alley as it did, but the fact it was hidden from public view was useful for Sam and Dean's exorcism intentions. The Winchesters had scouted ahead earlier yesterday while Faith visited her local library. Weird, he never would have picked Faith to be a big reader, but according to her gossipy building concierge, Faith hung out at her local library a lot.

Did demons take on the persona of the person they possessed? There was so much about the supernatural world that Sam should know about but didn't because of his resentment towards his father preventing an acquisition of knowledge ... _Crap, it was frigging freezing out here_. Determined footsteps coming towards the window brought Sam back from his bitter trip down memory lane.

The window beside him slid up with an abrupt squawk of abused wooden grooves.

"Sam-baby, do you wanna come inside and join yah brother gettin' the snot kicked out of him in the warmth or do you get off on freezin' ya balls outside while you perve?" Faith wanted to know as she jutted her head outside. Her hair was slightly mussed as if she possibly had been in a fight or making out. "He'd ask you inside himself, but he's all tied up."

Instantly Sam saw visions of a trussed and gagged Dean being tortured by a demon Faith, or a silken rope restrained, naked Dean being pleasured a human, naked Faith. Honest to God, Sam didn't know which image-flash was more stomach turning.

"It's cool, dude, she isn't a demon." Dean's voice could be heard calling from inside. "She might be psycho, but she isn't a demon."

"Fuck you, pal." Faith uttered the remark lightly to Dean but Sam recognized the remark hurt her for some reason.

Putting his large feet first, Sam jimmied himself through the window.

A large wet patch on Dean's jeans that he was dabbing at with a dish cloth in the kitchen area explained the tied up remark and a bruised cheek the beaten up comment.

"She threw holy water on me, when I was trying to see if she had a reaction to silver." Dean explained to Sam casually.

"Right," Sam nodded and waited for further explanation.

Holding her hair back so it didn't catch alight, Faith lit a cigarette on the back stove.

"She's not a ghost either, Faith here's a fellow hunter." Dean smirked at his own short sightedness. "The clues were in front of us. The way she wears a silver cross all the time."

"I knew there was more than one reason you were checkin' out my tits. Congratulations," Faith blew her cigarette smoke upwards impatiently. "You've worked out you were retarded, now take a hike."

A pout of panic marred Dean's charm filled explanation for a second. "Hey, where's the love? I apologized for pulling a knife."

"Then why does she look like Annabel Lehane from Salem?" Sam gave a snort of irritation. His fingers itched to whip the Book of Common Prayer out of his pocket and start reading the part dealing with exorcism.

"I'm Annie's cousin," Faith stared at Sam with her body rigid for prepared confrontation.

"That's convenient, long lost I suppose?" Sam stared at her back, the hell if he was going to give up the idea Faith was a demon without a struggle.

"Yeah, she has the docs and everything, Sam." Dean enthused, indicating a pile of official looking letters lying on Faith's kitchen bench, "completely legit."

"What happened to your brain, Dean? Why am I asking that? She could have forged these documents - or enchanted, um, mojoed them." Sam went to pick the papers up. He noticed they were headed up from a firm he felt he should recognize the name of but didn't. Immediately Faith stood in front of him.

She didn't need to get right in his face to radiate intimidation. "Hey, leave my 'enchanted' shit alone and leave with big bro, I'm not a demon, I'm not a ghost, I'm not a fuckin' vamp, so piss off."

"Vampires are probably extinct." Dean pronounced with authority.

"That explains …." An expression of illumination crossed her face.

Sam dropped the papers back on her kitchen bench. Why did Faith have legal documents in her kitchen and why was Dean totally convinced she was human?

A few quick strides took Faith over to her front door which proceeded to be swung forcefully open by her.

To avoid the bruises that would be coming their way if they lingered, Dean and Sam departed with hasty dignity.

"I thought I was in there, once we cleared up our little mutual misunderstanding." Dean elaborated further to Sam as the two brothers descended the flight of stairs leading to the building's entrance. "But she said she didn't like being played. Seeing she was playing us too, it kinda proves the illogicalness of the female mind. She was more into you than me, anyways, dude, which shows she's kinda nuts to begin with."

"No, she wasn't." Sam quickened his pace and tried to avoid analyzing if that was why Faith repelled him so much.

Jessica and Faith were complete opposites in everyway. So if someone like Faith got all wet for him, what did that make Sam Winchester nowadays?

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**Author Note:** Amazingly this story has been nominated for best Sam Faith romance at _Twisted _a Sam-Faith site with fanfic, fanvids and manips. If you're enjoyed this story (which is still in progress so feel free to review) or like the pairing of Sam- Faith, I urge you to check this site out.


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